


Why Did You Have To Go?

by Ash2411



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Ficlet, Grieving, I'm Sorry, So so so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash2411/pseuds/Ash2411
Summary: Bellamy struggles to find some semblance of inner peace after losing Clarke to Praimfaya.





	Why Did You Have To Go?

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to "Why Did You Have To Go" by aurora quite a lot while writing this. Hence why it's so damn sad. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy angst because here it coooooooooooooomes....

It's been a handful of days since they made it back to the Ring of the Ark. Everyone seems to have found a place to make their home except for Bellamy. He's sleeping in the control room again, the windows showing a black sky speckled with distant stars. He jolts awake and the chair he's sitting in rolls sideways, his boots dragging across the ground. 

"Clarke!" He gasps. Seconds pass as his brain catches up to his body and he realizes that Clarke isn't here anymore. She's millions of miles away, buried beneath radiation and fire.

A deep sigh escapes his lungs and he rubs the restless sleepiness from his eyes. When he stands and stretches, his feet are already carrying him where he knows he'll end up. The great window stretches out across his vision and through the glass he can see it: Earth. Fires still rage angrily in most places. In other places, he can see blackened earth stretching over many miles. Clouds circle over it's surface periodically and he follows their progress. 

Bellamy sends out a message to the rotating sphere, begging it to spare his sister and the others beneath the ground. Then he prays to the only thing he's ever truly believed in. 

"I wish you were here, Clarke. Please, help us through this. Help us survive long enough to get back to the ground. Help me..." Bellamy can't get the rest of the words he wants to say out of his throat. They've settled there, a hard lump, choking him. 

He wanders away from the window, pacing the halls. These parts of the Ark are unfamiliar to him. His home and everyone he knew had fallen away months ago. None of them had made it further than the ground. He remembers the bodies in the grass. He remembers the red seat belts strapped around them and the way he'd used them to scale a mountain to save a girls life.

He took lives on earth almost as often as he saved them. 

Bellamy clenches his hands at his side as he walks through a large doorway. The huge security scanner next to the frame barely registers as he enters a massive room lined with doors and stairs leading further down to more rooms. Numbers stand out in white against the heavy, impenetrable prison cell doors. 

"Sky box..." Bellamy says under his breath. He wonders which of these rooms belonged to Octavia. Right afterwards, he wonders the same thing about Clarke. A number flashes through his head. 

A number etched into the wristband attached to a young blonde girl hanging onto his hand for dear life. 319. He nearly stumbles in his haste to make it to the steps. Down two levels...odd numbers on the right...311...313...315...317…

He stops at 317, but his eyes are on the door next to him. His heart is racing in his chest. She's gone, but maybe...just maybe, there's something left of her here. 

Or maybe there isn't and he'll just feel broken apart all over again.

Bellamy stands there deliberating for a few  minutes before he moves forward, his footsteps echoing in the empty silence. His fingers ghost over the numbers. He grips the door handle and pulls. The door sighs as it opens. 

What Bellamy sees is beyond what he can comprehend. He sits down on the step leading down into Clarke's old prison cell, his head in his hands, his throat sore with strain as he tries not to break down. When he finally looks up again, he almost smiles. She is everywhere. 

Sketches span the length of the floor and walls, great landscapes of earth, dreamt up by a girl of 17, desperate for the time when she would see it's green grass and blue oceans. Flowers, scorpions, species of animals she'd studied in books... Bellamy wishes that earth had been kinder to her. 

He wipes at the tears rolling down his cheeks and spends the rest of the night running his hands over Clarke's drawings. When he reaches one on the floor, unfinished, he thinks she must have been working on just before the guards swept in to take her to the dropship. His hand lingers over its unfinished edges and he closes his eyes, reaching out to whatever is left of her here. But, it's just icy steel and charcoal beneath his hands, not the flesh and warmth of the girl he left behind. His heart sinks, and he rests his arms on his knees, his head bowed, black curls in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." Bellamy whispers to the empty room. "Clarke, it should've been me. I promised Raven that we'd be okay. I told her I could do this. For you. But, every day without you gets harder. They need you. I...I need you."

Words seem to swim to him from the depths of his mind. _You may be a total ass half the time, but I need you._  He shakes his head but the memory still comes. If he closes his eyes he can almost feel the damp leaves beneath his feet and the feeling of her hand resting close to his, the bark of the tree rough against his back...

"It should've been me on that satellite tower and you on the Ring." He mumbles.

His muscles groan and his joints scream when he finally stands up again. This is as close as he will ever get to Clarke again. Clarke, his best friend. The head to his heart.  The person he loved and trusted more than anyone else. He never got the chance to tell her. He’ll never know if she felt the same way. He’ll never know what her favorite color is or what time of day she likes best. Her little quirks and all her memories will be a mystery to him for the rest of time. All the different sides of her are gone and he’ll never get the chance to know them. The heavy weight of this falls on him and the unfairness of it all grinds its way into his heart.

He growls in anger and punches the wall over and over again until his knuckles bleed and his hand stops throbbing and instead goes numb. He never got to tell Clarke he loved her and now he never will...

Bellamy's body feels so thoroughly drained that he stumbles backwards and bumps into the bed. He lays down on top of the red blankets, no traces of Clarke left among the pillows. He rolls over to face the wall and sees something that kicks him in the gut all over again. Etched into the wall are a series of names, the most recent of which being Clarke Griffin. He recognizes her handwriting. Her name feels rough beneath his thumb as he rubs it over the letters there.

He closes his eyes and traces the letters over and over again. Finally he falls asleep with damp eyelashes and raw fingertips.

  
  



End file.
